PJO Drabbles
by Artemis Rae
Summary: A variety of drabbles written for different comms and challenges. See individual chapters for characters, ratings, and genre, but skews towards gen fic and het pairings.
1. Actus Reus

**Title**: Actus Reus  
**Rating**: K  
**Character/Pairing**: Thalia/Luke  
**Summary**: Thalia and Luke spar. Thalia no longer has the upper hand.  
**A/N**: Originally I was posting these separately, but then I decided to make like my Avatar and FMA drabbles and post them all as one story. It's neater that way. The first couple of these chapters will be reposts of stories that were posted separately and I've consolidated into this.

This fic was written for the LJ comm pjo_kinkmeme, although it's the exact opposite of kinky. Set preseries, written for the prompt: _"Thalia/Luke, you can't steal a kiss."_ And for those wondering, the term actes reus is a legal term referring to a "guilty act" - it seemed appropriate, a little.

* * *

They spar, during evenings when they both have the energy and it doesn't seem like there are any imminent monsters. Luke has some weapons that he's taken from his mother's house, and Thalia has her shield, and together the two of them practice what few forms they know and sharpen what other skills they've simply picked up off the streets. Annabeth likes to watch - they do teach the kid what they know, but both are loath to fight with her, even for practice, even if they both know that she has to kill monsters the same as either of them.

Tonight, though, Annabeth is exhausted and has already dropped off even though the sun is still setting; Thalia keeps checking on her out of the corner of her eye while Luke advances. Both of them are fighting with swords tonight, Luke has the advantage, and they both know it.

"What's the matter Thalia?" he asks teasingly, pressing forward and forcing her to step back. "Move your feet!"

"I'm fine!" she snaps, swinging her arm in a strike that's easily blocked.

"Are you sure?" he raises an eyebrow at her, and her heart skips a beat as her eyes make contact with his blue ones. It is strange to her, because it seems that ever since they've found Annabeth, since it had become the three of them instead of the two of them, that it is suddenly weird to be alone with Luke. Either he makes her heart beat too fast, or not at all, and he makes her blush when before she'd just punch him.

"Stay on your toes," she insists, panting. "I'm just waiting for my moment."

"Sure," he grins at her, and suddenly Thalia finds herself on the defensive again, being pushed back.

She knows it's almost a lost cause - and nearly jumps out of her skin - when her back meets the rough wood of a tree. Their swords are locked, but he's putting all of his strength into it and Thalia know she can't hold. She swallows hard, her mind scrambling for any possible out short of kicking him in the groin, and then -

And then she realizes exactly how close he is, and how much closer he's getting. He's staring at her intently; now it's their eyes that are locked, and there's a determined look on his face as he leans closer and closer. He becomes her entire world: all she can think is _Luke, Luke, Luke_, and all she can smell is him, the smell of sweat and pine, all she can hear is his breath, and all she sees is the endless blue of his eyes. His lips part - she can actually feel his breath against her face - and suddenly her brain lurches and shrieks _Weird, Weird Weird!_

Lightening fast, one of her hands lets go of her sword to press against the bracelet around her wrist. Luke loses his balance and falls backwards into the dirt as her shield unfolds; the Medusa on the front of it glares at him accusingly.

She peers over the shield at him, but thankfully he looks more confused than hurt. Her heart is racing, but she smirks at him. "I told ya I was just waiting for my moment."

* * *

Originally posted 12/14/2009


	2. Without Having to Say

**Title**: Without Having to Say  
**Rating**: K  
**Character/Pairing**: Annabeth Chase (pre-Annabeth/Percy)  
**Summary**: In which Annabeth contemplates the wisdom of an obvious decision.  
**A/N**: Written for the LJ writing comm 31_days, theme: when a heart must go where it belongs. Set during book 2 The Sea of Monsters, when Annabeth leaves home to meet Percy at school.

* * *

After a full evening's travel - and a two hour nap, rudely interrupted by a monster that forced her to break camp in the middle of the night - it suddenly occurs to Annabeth that while she's traveling north she's not heading towards camp. She's heading towards Percy.

Her dreams - Camp Half-Blood under attack, on fire and dying - flash through her brain, and she pauses momentarily to consider her destination. Retrieving Percy will take more time, and if the camp - her camp, her _home _- needed her, maybe it wasn't worth the detour.

Behind her comes the noises of a monster - _hopefully _only one. It's either one with several legs or two small ones. She can hear the tree creaking and the brush rustling; her scent must be everywhere.

Sighing, Annabeth plunks her baseball cap onto her head. If she was walking directly into trouble she knew who she wanted next to her.

_Athena grant me wisdom._

She'd learned long ago not to ask for anything else. Athena didn't grant wishes directly; she only gave its wisher the ability to find the answer for themselves.

Hitching her backpack, she kept on north, wondering if Percy would be surprised to see her.

* * *

Originally posted 12/20/2010


	3. Of Ugly Sights

**Title**: Of Ugly Sights  
**Rating**: K  
**Character/Pairing**: Sally Jackson (and tiny Percy)  
**Summary**: Sally Jackson has always seen things for how they are.  
**A/N**: Written for the LJ writing comm 31_days, theme: i refuse to believe that love is for the weak. Pre-series.

* * *

Bedtime in the Jackson household is easily the most dreaded part of their day.

Sally Jackson has always known that she can see things for how they truly are. When her young son cries as soon as she pulls out the pajamas and complains of the monsters outside his window, she knows he's not just making up stories. She's seen the way other people walk past those beastly things in the street as if nothing is wrong - and the way those things leer at her son. Honestly, she can't blame Percy for his tantrums, and won't soothe his terrors away with harmless lies - _there's no such thing as monsters_ - the way other parents might.

She meets Gabe, who has a nice smile and an easy charm about him. Sally sees him for what he is within fifteen minutes of their first date, when he gives that nice smile to the busty waitress taking their orders and picks Sally's dinner for her. She blushes like she's grateful, and wishes the old quote about first impressions being their truest could be proven.

He asks for a second date, and by the end of the third she resolves that she'll cut it off, change her phone number and even move if she has to. His presence is almost repulsive.

That night as she gets Percy into bed she realizes that he's gone down peacefully - her son is practically snoring and she hasn't even flipped the light off yet. She sits on the bed next to him and smooths his messy hair away from his forehead and tries to remember the last time Percy threw a fit before bed.

There's only one thing that has changed in that time, one new factor in their lives.

Sally Jackson can see things for how they truly are. She leans over and kisses her sleeping son goodnight, then leaves his room to call Gabe and see what he's doing this weekend.

* * *

Originally posted 12/26/2010


	4. Busted

**Title:** Busted  
**Rating:** G  
**Pairing/Characters:** Percy, Annabeth  
**Summary:** Annabeth catches Percy in a lie  
**A/N:** A small birthday fic for an LJ friend, nebroadwe. This was the original ending to her winning auction for the LJ comm help_haiti fic (for which she prompted me Tyson and Percy having an adventure, and became the fic _Tyson and I Take Up Birdwatching_). I later decided to shift the setting, making this ending irrelevant, but I still liked the idea, and I hope she does too.

* * *

  
"I _knew_ it!"

This was how Annabeth greeted me a month after spring break – and my "fishing trip" with Tyson – had ended.

I felt my heart sink, but tried to play innocent. "Knew what?" I asked, my voice pitched too high to pull off nonchalance. I really did not like keeping secrets from Annabeth, but I liked it even less when she had a new reason to make fun of me.

And somehow I knew _I_ was the one who'd get teased for this. Not Tyson.

"I _knew_ something happened on that trip." The smug tone in Annabeth's voice was unbearable. "I knew you and Tyson were too quiet about it."

"What do you know?" I demanded, and was surprised when Annabeth shoved a newspaper in my face and ducked past me into the kitchen.

"You want to explain _that_?" she asked, opening the freezer door and peering inside. "I saw it in line at the grocery store."

I looked at the newspaper she'd handed me. It was a copy of the _National Enquirer_. There was a large color picture splashed across the front of it, taken on a beach early in the morning. The headline screamed: _**The New Montauk Monster Invades New York!**_

I groaned. That was undoubtedly me in the picture, soaking wet and gross, covered with seaweed and other plant-life, with a trail of flotsam and jetsam straggling behind me. I looked like some kind of horrible swamp-creature emerging from the water to feed on sunbathers.

"You didn't tell me you had to _walk_ home," Annabeth called, still poking through the freezer. She gave me a sunny grin under the door. "Couldn't hitch a ride with a sea turtle or something?"

"Hilarious," I muttered under my breath, flipping through the pages to scan through the article as best I could.

Luckily, the only damage seemed to be to my reputation: when I lowered the paper, Annabeth was standing in front of me, holding the slim pieces of paper-wrapped fish that we'd so carefully packed away in the freezer. I was never going to live this one down; she was still smiling broadly at me.

"Tell me," she asked in a quizzical tone. "Did your catch put up a big fight when you bought it at the fish market?"

* * *

**A/N: **The OLD Montauk Monster, for those of you who don't remember, was the decomposed body of a "mysterious creature" ( later debunked as a raccoon ) that washed up in Montauk in 2008 and set the internets aflame.

Originally posted 05/09/2010


	5. Among Other Things

**Title**: Among Other Things  
**Rating**: K+  
**Character/Pairing**: Percy/Annabeth  
**Summary**: Annabeth sneaks into Percy's cabin for one thing, and one thing only.  
**A/N**: For a friend who wanted a fic where Annabeth sneaks into Percy's cabin.

* * *

"Percy. Percy!"

Most guys, when they heard their name being whispered urgently in the middle of night, might have slept through it. _Percy_ would have slept through it. Furthermore, whenever they opened their eyes and saw only the ceiling of their cabin, most guys would roll over and go right back to sleep.

Percy, on the other hand, knew better. Reaching up blindly, he managed to knock the Yankees cap right off of Annabeth's head right as her lips met his. She reappeared, smiling against his mouth as she wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned into him. The bed dipped as she crawled into it, curling up next to him.

He panted a laugh when they finally broke apart for air. "I don't think that's how your mother meant for you to use that hat, Wise Girl."

"What do you know from wise, Kelp Head?" Annabeth asked, rolling her eyes.

"Malcolm covering for you?" he asked as she ducked her head back towards him again, her breath against his lips.

Annabeth nodded. "Mmm.

"So?" he stretched out, relishing the feel of her body pressed against his. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

She was playing with his hair. "I wanted a goodnight kiss."

"A goodnight kiss?" He wrapped an arm around her waist, hauling her on top of him so that her knees were straddling his hips. She squealed, her hands tightening in his hair. "Is that all?"

"Yep," she claimed airily, planting her hands on his pillow and trying to pull away. "I would never sneak out of my cabin to mess around, that hardly strikes me as wise -"

He cut her off with another kiss, tightening his arms around her waist. A moment later she melted back into him, and the debate over the wisdom of certain acts was put off for a little while, at least.

* * *

Originally posted 5/21/2010


	6. Bail

**Title:** Bail  
**Rating:** T  
**Characters:** Percy and Grover, Percy/Annabeth  
**Summary:** There are just some things that Grover doesn't need to know.  
**A/N:** Written for the alphabet challenge I did on my LJ, where I was given a prompt for every letter of the alphabet. My prompt for this drabble was "lucky". Spoilers for the end of the second book, and honestly, I should include a warning for what's likely a healthy dose of fanwanking, but considering that the whole thing with Grover and Percy isn't really brought up again the rest of the series, I felt comfortable enough to run with it once this idea took hold. 

* * *

_lucky_  
-adjective  
1. having or marked by good luck; fortunate

-slang  
1. sex

* * *

Percy was surprised by Grover's sudden appearance on his doorstep. "What are you doing here?" he asked, opening the door wide to let the satyr in. "I thought you were up in New England."

"I made a quick trip home," Grover murmured, clapping his hands nervously. "Um, no one else is home right? Your parents - or – uh, Annabeth?"

"Mom's at work, Paul had a staff meeting, and Annabeth's back at school," Percy explained, leading Grover further into the apartment. "What's up? Do you need me to call Annabeth?"

"No!" Grover sounded almost panicky.

Percy pulled up and looked at him, frowning. "What's wrong with you, G-Man? You're acting like the Council is going to declare burritos environmentally unsafe."

Grover swallowed hard. "Percy, I came to dissolve our empathy link."

"What?" In all honesty, Percy had practically forgotten about his and Grover's bond. He never used it, and outside of the odd nature-themed nightmare that infiltrated his own dreams once in a while, he didn't think Grover did either. At least, not that he could remember. "But I like having it!"

"No." Grover was firm. "It absolutely has to be broken."

"But why?" Percy asked. It seemed out of nowhere that Grover would show up and insist on this. "What's wrong?"

Grover sighed heavily and sat down on the Blowfis' couch. Percy couldn't help noticing the nervous way he tugged at loose threads from the cushions and slipped them into his mouth. "Percy," he prompted. "What activates the bond?"

"Emotions?" Percy asked dumbly. He'd never really thought about it.

"Intense emotional responses." Grover explained. "Like, uh, being afraid that you're going to die, for example? Or being really angry. Or really _happy_."

"…Ok." Percy was still struggling to keep up. "So why do you have to break our bond?"

"Did you know," Grover asked slowly, his eyes glued firmly to the floor, "that you _dream_ about Annabeth?"

Percy blinked at him. Realization dawned. He flushed instantly. "You've – you – those –"

"It's just!" Grover's arms flailed in embarrassment. "I'm uh – happy for you two, but – you know – I've known Annabeth for a long time and –"

"Yeah, no." Percy ran a hand through his hair and wondered if he'd ever be able to make eye contact with Grover again. "We need to break the link _right now._"

* * *

Originally posted 06/06/2010


	7. With Both Feet

**Title:** With Both Feet  
**Rating:** K  
**Characters:** Percy/Annabeth  
**Summary:** Percy can be quite clever when he wants to be.  
**A/N:** Written for the alphabet challenge I did on my LJ, where I was given a prompt for every letter of the alphabet. My prompt for this drabble was "fountain". 

* * *

_fountain_  
-noun  
1. a spring or source of water; the source or head of a stream.  
2. a jet or stream of water (or other liquid) made by mechanical means to spout or rise from an opening or structure, as to afford water for use, to cool the air, or to serve for ornament.

* * *

"C'mon Annabeeeeth," Percy whined gently, reaching out and snagging one of her curls around his index finger.

"Don't 'come on Annabeth' me," Annabeth informed him curtly, not even looking up from her clipboard. "I told you if you followed me up here today that I wouldn't be able to spend time with you. We're in the middle of rebuilding the personal chambers and the gods are all wound up about everything being perfect."

"Are they, or are _you_?" Percy asked.

Annabeth scowled. "You're not funny Percy. Not to mention, we're in your dad's chambers. That's kind of weird, don't you think?"

"Huh? I guess," Percy admitted morosely, watching a cyclops wrestle a twisting statue of a dolphin into the center of a large fountain, not yet turned on. They were standing in the basin, while Annabeth was tilting her head and frowning with a critical eye.

"A little more to the left," she finally said, before nodding and adding, "You can get the other one now."

Percy idly ran one finger down Annabeth's back, watching as she stiffened under his touch. "Percy," she said in a low, warning tone. "Don't pull this here. I'm pretty sure your father hasn't forgiven my mother for Medusa, and if your dad turns my hair to snakes it'll be completely unmanageable."

"Here!" Percy's face widened into a grin as an idea occurred to him. He turned his gaze onto the fountain, and a moment later Annabeth yelped as water spouted. With a gesture of his arms, the water shifted until it was surrounding them. "See? No one can see us now."

Annabeth was staring down at their feet. "My socks are wet," she complained, but Percy only laughed, wrapped his arms around her waist, and bent to kiss her.

* * *

Originally posted 06/13/2010


	8. Strong Arm Tactics

**Title:** Strong Arm Tactics  
**Rating:** K  
**Characters:** Thalia, Luke, and Annabeth. Pre-series.  
**Summary:** Whether Thalia and Annabeth want something from Luke or are just plain annoyed with him, they know exactly what to do.  
**A/N:** Written for the alphabet challenge I did on my LJ, where I was given a prompt for every letter of the alphabet. My prompt for this drabble was "music". To be honest, this is a little piece of mine and Juxtaposie's personal fanon; I knew this was precisely what she was looking for when she left the prompt. Silly prompt begat silly fic. 

* * *

_music_  
-noun  
1. an art of sound in time that expresses ideas and emotions in significant forms through the elements of rhythm, melody, harmony, and color.

* * *

"And I coooooome to youuuuuuuu with ooooooopen arrrrrrrrrms…"

Luke felt his eye twitch as the girls' warbling filtered through the copse of trees they were currently winding their way through. Despite the fact that he was at least twenty paces ahead of them – the safest he felt being separated when they weren't in a shelter – he could hear them as clearly as if they were walking on either side of him.

It had started the last time they'd hitched the ride; some dumb ballad had been playing on the stereo and Thalia had struck up a conversation with the guy who'd picked them up. For years her mother had told her that her father was a member of the band. Thalia had grown up listening to their records nonstop – it was the only way she felt close to her father.

("When did you find out it wasn't him?" Annabeth had asked, wide-eyed.

"The first time I got struck by lightning," Thalia had replied grimly, "And instead of saying 'Oh, are you okay?' my mother went, 'Oh, now you pissed him off.'"

Their ride had ended not long after that.)

Luke, it had turned out, was considerably less impressed with their music than Annabeth and Thalia were, a discovery they had learned to use to their advantage. Especially when they were annoyed with him.

"Hoping you'll see, what your looooove meeeans to meeee –"

"All right!" Luke finally conceded, flopping his arms uselessly and glaring at them. "All right. I give up. I'll get you whatever you want. Just tell me. And _stop singing!_"

"We want hot dogs!" Annabeth piped up. "And cookies!"

Luke grimaced. Hot dogs were easy, but cookies – "How about candy bars?" he suggested. "Those are easier to lift."

"Wheeeeeeel in the skyyyyyyy keep on turrrrnnniiiinnng…" Thalia picked up determinedly.

Luke sighed. "Okay. Cookies. Let's find town." 

* * *

**A/N:** I'm probably fanwanking it by a few years, but even if Thalia wasn't an illegitimate child of Journey, my guess is STILL that they were the music Zeus wooed Ms. Grace with. (Uh, because how could you not be aroused by the dulcet tones of Steve Perry?)

Originally posted 06/20/2010


	9. Casualty of War

**Title:** Casualty of War  
**Rating:** K  
**Characters:** Percy/Annabeth, a dragon automaton?  
**Summary:** No matter how well they read each other, there are always new discoveries.  
**A/N:** Written for the alphabet challenge I did on my LJ, where I was given a prompt for every letter of the alphabet. My prompt for this drabble was "army". Set at camp... post series I guess? No spoilers. Just fun. 

* * *

_army_  
-noun  
1. a large body of persons trained and armed for war.

* * *

"Annabeth, shield!" She barely got her shield up in time at Percy's shout, nearly dropping it as the metal heated underneath her hands. Somewhere there was a call of "release!" and a hail of arrows arrived from the Apollo cabin behind the ranks of sword fighters.

The automaton – a dragon, spewing flames as it lumbered across the field – roared in annoyance and ducked back towards Percy and Annabeth, heavily favoring its left side. When it seemed safe to drop her shield, she saw that – exactly as planned – the two of them had caught the dragon's attention once again.

There was the mechanical noise of air flowing through the dragon's valves, and then another flare; Annabeth rolled out of the way just in time, narrowly avoiding skewering herself on her own dagger, and climbed back onto her feet just in time to realize that Percy had taken the blast square in the face.

Knowing it was pointless, she didn't bother to ask if he was all right as she side-stepped around him and thrust her dagger into its neck, yanking it back with short, jagged movements that she hoped would snap the right wire somewhere. In her peripheral vision, she could see Percy driving forward with Riptide, keeping the automaton's focus even as it screeched and tried to throw her.

It stiffened suddenly, and pitched towards her; Percy grabbed her by the scruff of her armor at the last minute and dragged her away as the dragon took one more step and fell, landing heavily on its left side. Malcolm was grinning at her from across its flank, flush with victory.

She turned to smile at Percy who was still frowning as he gently felt his forehead with the tips of his fingers. Concerned, Annabeth reached and helped him pull off his partially melted helmet, slapping his hands away while she looked.

"Huh," she finally said, trying to keep her face serious. "So your eyebrows aren't invulnerable."

* * *

Originally posted 06/29/2010


	10. Intra Muros

**Title:** Intra Muros  
**Rating:** K  
**Characters:** Percy/Annabeth/Nico  
**Summary:** They have a routine down by this point.  
**A/N:** Written for the alphabet challenge I did on my LJ, where I was given a prompt for every letter of the alphabet. My prompt for this drabble was "quaint". Um, it's OT3 fic. I don't know that I need to say anything else. 

* * *

_quaint_  
-adjective  
1. having an old-fashioned attractiveness or charm; oddly picturesque.

* * *

They have a routine, the three of them, and they're comfortable in it. Annabeth sets the alarm clock and gets both of them up – because Percy will sleep through it and Nico will pretend – before claiming the bathroom first. Percy drags through getting dressed; Nico puts the pot of coffee on.

Percy works through the day; during breaks and lunch Annabeth puts on the local news to make sure no one has caught him on camera before the Mist has done its work. Depending on if she has to be on site or in the office, Nico sometimes brings her lunch, taking great delight in confusing her coworkers by shadow traveling to build sites far away from New York City.

They eat dinner together, the three of them. Always. Old habits die hard; Percy and Annabeth always dedicate a portion of their meals to their parents. Whoever didn't cook cleans up the kitchen. Nine days out of ten, it's Percy, who is only granted immunity whenever he comes bearing dishes from Sally.

It's taken them years, but they have it down now. Their lives are simple, and happy. They've figured out each other's boundaries. Things have been settled. There are rules; not much is left up for debate.

Not much except for:

A fresh cry in the middle of the night, and Annabeth and Nico both groan out loud.

"It's your turn, you know," Annabeth grumbles, turning and burying her face in the pillow.

"That's not true. It's Percy's turn," Nico complains, reaching across Annabeth to smack Percy in the head. "I can tell when you're actually sleeping, you know."

Percy growls, "I got up last night, and then Annabeth got up around dawn. It's totally your turn."

"I knew you were awake for that," Annabeth chides him gently, before rolling onto her back. "Your turn Nico. Up, up."

"Oh whatever," Nico huffs, rolling out of bed and reaching for a pair of sweatpants. He grabs Percy's; he can tell because they're slightly too short, coming up above his ankles, but honestly, who will be watching at this time of night? He does make sure to grab up his own armor and sword though, before slipping out the door.

"Don't let it destroy the car," Annabeth calls sleepily after him. Nico bites back his retort ("That's Percy!") and heads out to take on the latest monster to catch their scent – the sooner he kills this thing, the sooner he can go back to bed.

Tomorrow though, it's totally Percy's turn. 

* * *

_intra muros:_ within the walls

Originally posted 07/06/2010


	11. The Axis of the Universe

**Title:** The Axis of the Universe  
**Rating:** T  
**Characters:** Percy/Annabeth  
**Summary:** Percy tries to make Annabeth promise the impossible.  
**A/N:** Written for the alphabet challenge I did on my LJ, where I was given a prompt for every letter of the alphabet. My prompt for this drabble was "heroine".

* * *

_Heroine_  
-noun  
1. a woman of distinguished courage or ability, admired for her brave deeds and noble qualities.  
2. the principal female character in a story, play, film, etc.

* * *

There aren't very many safe places for them, as half bloods – not with a world full of monsters, hunters, and gods both minor and otherwise out there waiting for them – but at this point Percy has unconsciously decided that their bed is base; their bed is a safe zone. Nothing can get them.

They're both nude, and Annabeth is sprawled on her back next to him, boneless and limp. Her eyes are closed but Percy can tell she's not asleep by the way her chest rises and falls out of rhythm. It's rare to have a moment with her like this, with her guard down and a tiny, satisfied smirk on her face, and Percy drinks in the sight of her even though he knows her like he knows the way Riptide fits in his hand.

She doesn't agree with his assessment of safety, because in her mind as long as they're together, they're safe. In theory he agrees with her; neither one of them has ever backed down from a fight. The two of them have overcome impossible odds. Why does it matter if they've taken a knock or two in the process?

Still…

Percy reaches out and brushes the mark in her side. With the nectar doing its work, it'll be gone by morning, although he's pretty sure it – and the look on Annabeth's face as she slipped on her cap, and the sound she made as she'd been hit – will be permanently seared into his memory.

"Hey," he says impulsively, rolling over and kissing the knitted wound. "Don't get hurt again."

"Pffft," Annabeth responds, eyes still closed. "Yeah, sure, I'll get right on that."

"Promise me," Percy insists, shifting across her as he brushes kisses, feather light, across her stomach and under her navel.

"Percy," she says quietly, and now he can see her gray eyes trained on him. There's a blush crawling across her face. "That's unfair. I won't promise it. Or swear it."

"You don't have to swear on Styx," he amends, slipping between her legs and nuzzling her thigh. "Just promise to me."

Her breath hitches when he breathes on her. "I-I can't. You can't –"

"Promise," he whispers against her skin, ignoring the way she's arching her back to push her hips down at him. It is suddenly so important to hear her say this, for her to assure him that she has confidence in her ability to fight _and_ her ability to stay safe. He doesn't know how to ask that; instead, he only murmurs, "Please."

"I'll try. I promise, but -" she relents, her heels grazing his shoulders. "But only if you do too."

* * *

Originally posted 08/10/2010


	12. Hapax Legomenon

**Title:** Hapax Legomenon  
**Rating:** K  
**Characters:** Annabeth, Percy, Spoilers from The Last Hero  
**Summary:** For Percy and Annabeth, first impressions remain truest.  
**A/N:** For the prompt battle at the LJ comm pjo_fic_battle, for the prompt _Percy/Annabeth, survival._ In other news, **SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS** for the end of _The Lost Hero_. I had a really good theme for a longer fic, but then I realized none of it would get posted, so have the bit that drabbled really nicely.

**DID I MENTION THE SPOILERS FOR THE ENDING OF THE LOST HERO?**

Carry on then.

* * *

She'd spent so much time fearing for Percy's safety, worrying if Percy would be okay mixed into the Roman camp. She'd had more than one sleepless night shivering in her bunk and trying to banish nightmares. When she finally sees him again, Annabeth is torn between heartache and glee; there's Percy, safe and sound and having clearly fended for himself, judging by how he's surrounded by a group of angry campers in purple shirts, but his eyes are just as angry as the kids around him; there isn't even a tiny bit of recognition in them.

He scoffs when she claims to know him, gets angry when Jason says he doesn't belong here. The other kids back him up; nobody at camp can beat Percy in a fight – if he doesn't belong there, then where? They've accepted him, and they're not inclined to return him.

Jason runs his mouth off, alarmed that nobody remembers him. Percy smirks – she's only ever seen Percy smirk when he's impersonating her – and challenges him to a fight. A fair fight, each with his preferred weapon. Jason bristles, but before he can accept Annabeth intervenes.

"I'll fight you," she says, and it doesn't hurt even a tiny bit when Percy looks at her like she's crazy.

"You? Princess? You want to fight me?" he asks, and Annabeth wants to roll her eyes at how cocky he sounds. He doesn't know what's going to hit him.

"Princess?" she asks, raising an eyebrow.

For the briefest moment, there's a flicker on his face: it's the expression Percy makes when she calls him out on the latest stupid thing to fall out of his mouth. He blinks at her, and raises a hand, gesturing at his own head halfheartedly. "You know… the hair?"

* * *

**A/N:** _hapax legomenon_, or, _once said_ is a term describing a word that is used only once in a written record of language.

Originally posted 10/16/2010


	13. Where the Heart Is

**Title:** Where the Heart Is  
**Rating:** K  
**Characters:** Percy/Annabeth  
**Summary:** Percy seeks a blessing before he proposes to Annabeth.  
**A/N:** Written for the alphabet challenge I did on my LJ, where I was given a prompt for every letter of the alphabet. My prompt for this drabble was "gold"

* * *

_gold_  
-noun

1. A heavy yellow elemental metal of great value, with atomic number 79 and symbol Au.  
2. Anything or anyone considered to be very valuable. 

* * *

It comes to him after he buys the ring, tries to think of how to ask – Percy talks to his partner at work about how _he'd_ proposed to _his_ wife.

Nick scratches his head. "Um, I just asked at dinner one night. Well – I asked her dad for permission first. She appreciated that - she wanted his blessing."

Percy frowns. "I'm not sure Annabeth would like that." Forget the whole knotty "permission" issue – if there was anyone's blessing Annabeth would care about, it surely wasn't Dr. Chase's.

Still, the idea is one that's taken hold of him, and he turns it over and over in his head the next couple of days , trying to reconcile the idea. He can't ask Athena – what if she said no? He could ask his own father but that would be weird. Annabeth considered Chiron to be like a father to her, but given that he'd been sending Annabeth off on dangerous quests since she was twelve, Percy has a feeling he knows what Chiron will say if he asks him.

And then it occurs to him – he needs a blessing. And he knows exactly who he needs it from.

But first he needs another ring.

* * *

The fire in the hearth has almost died, but it's still burning just enough that Percy feels comfortable kneeling down next to it, throwing on a log, and saying quietly, "Hello Hestia."

The young girl's eyes glow as she looks at Percy and smiles warmly. "Hello Percy. What brings you to my hearth?"

Percy pulls out the second ring he's bought. He learned a long time ago about the symbolism of the ring, why lovers give them to one another: they never end. They mean forever. _Something permanent. _

He holds it out for Hestia to inspect. "I came for a blessing."

Hestia raises an eyebrow and delicately takes the ring from Percy. "It is rare for a demigod to seek a blessing from me of all the gods," she says slowly, inspecting it. The gold of the band shines in her hand. "I cannot give you the power to fight battles like Ares, or the wisdom to think through challenges like Athena."

"I don't need those things," Percy says, and thinks of Annabeth, and thinks of making a home, making a family with her. "I gave you my hopes during the last battle, and I'm doing it again. I want a hearth of my own."

Hestia lights up, grinning so brightly that the flames around her flare up as well, heating Percy's face. '"Well done, Percy Jackson. I will bless the hearth that you will create in your home."

Percy walks away feeling a weight lift off of his shoulders. _Something permanent. _

Now all he needs to do is ask Annabeth.

* * *

Originally posted 11/11/2010


	14. The Master of the House

**Title:** The Master of the House  
**Rating:** K  
**Characters/Pairings:** Percy/Annabeth  
**Summary:** Annabeth solves a long-standing problem.  
**A/N:** Written for the alphabet challenge I did on my LJ, where I was given a prompt for every letter of the alphabet. My prompt for this drabble was "xerophytes". This is post-series silliness and domesticity-ness.

* * *

_xerophyte_  
-noun

1. Any plant suited for life in a habitat where water is scarce, such as in a desert or chaparral

* * *

He'd heard the door open and shut, but Percy was washing dishes and not really paying attention and didn't realize she was standing directly behind him until he reached for a towel to dry.

"Hey," he greeted, calling over his shoulder. "Did you have fun with my mom?.. You bought a cactus."

This was a factual statement. He leaned against the counter and resisted the urge to reach out and touch it. It was definitely a real cactus. Annabeth had a strange, kind of manic look in her eye. Percy recognized it. It was the expression she had when she thought she'd found the solution to a long standing problem.

"I bought a cactus," she agreed. "I was tired of you killing my plants every time I left for more than a week."

"Oh come on," he protested. "I only forgot to water one or two…" Percy trailed off at the fierce glare on Annabeth's face.

"If you kill this one when I go to visit my dad next month," she declared, dropping the cactus on the counter and wrapping her arm around his, "we are never having children."

* * *

Originally posted 11/15/2010


	15. Falling Like Stars

**Title:** Falling Like Stars  
**Rating:** K  
**Character/Pairing:** Luke and Annabeth  
**Summary:** The only sacrifice made so far has been _hers_. For _him._  
**A/N:** Written for the LJ comm 31_days, prompt "You're a devil meaning well." Set during The Titan's Curse. I always thought it was worth noting that Luke was the one who ended up saving Annabeth's life in that book, and wanted to fic his thoughts.

* * *

It's cold at night in the winter, even in California. With a frown on his face, Luke adjusts the blankets covering Annabeth's shivering form, smoothes back the hair falling across her face to make sure she's breathing easily. He still isn't sure she'll live through the night; he may have stopped Atlas from killing her in cold blood only so he could watch her fade away while it's dark. There's only so much ambrosia and nectar he can force down her throat, especially when she's unconscious. With a sigh he runs his hands through his hair and bites the nail of his thumb apprehensively.

He is the scum of the earth.

It wasn't supposed to be like this. Even if he accomplishes his goal, defeats Olympus, makes things better for forgotten demigod children everywhere, _what has he done to Annabeth?_ He'd been okay with the idea of making sacrifices right up until he'd realized that the only sacrifice so far had been _hers_. For _him_.

She stirs suddenly, the first time her eyes have opened since he lifted her from under Atlas' burden. "Luke?" Annabeth croaks, her voice dry and hoarse. Her eyes are clouded, distant, but trusting, and it occurs to Luke that she doesn't remember what's happened, hasn't yet realized that she needs to fear him now.

"I'm here," he says, fumbling for the canteen of nectar.

"Safe house?" she asks after a long pause, as if she's trying to marshal her thoughts. He thinks of their little shacks up and down the coast and nods.

"Yeah, Annabeth, we're in a safe house." Sort of.

She blinks again, shifting her shoulders and cringing. "…Monster?"

Something in his chest aches. "Yeah kid," he finally agrees. "There's a monster."

* * *

Originally posted 01/17/2011


	16. Mightier Than the Sword

**Title:** Mightier Than the Sword  
**Rating:** K  
**Character/Pairing:** Sally and Paul, background Percy.  
**Summary:** There has to be more to her than he's seen so far.  
**A/N:** Written for the LJ comm 31_days, prompt "Found the dark in you." Set during Titan's Curse, when they meet.

* * *

He really enjoys spending time with Sally – it kind of blows his mind that here is a sweet and funny and smart woman, paying any attention to him and listening to him and being interested in what he has to say, when the majority of the women he meets are really only interested in knowing why he gave Junior a "D" on their English midterm.

But here is Sally, and she smiles at him, and wants his opinion on her work and considers what he has to say as she writes and revises, and there's a weird kind of flutter when she smiles at him that's making him consider something he hadn't given weight to since the girl he'd been thinking of proposing to had decided that two months of _his_ salary didn't buy a nice enough ring. It's so uplifting that there's a pit in his heart counseling prudence, reminding him that he doesn't know her that well yet, that there has to be more to her than he's seen so far.

Sally wants him to read over the first draft of a story she's been working on; it only comes in chunks, she says, it won't smooth itself out and she wants to know what he thinks. She's flipping through her notebook, searching for the section she wants him to read when her phone rings, and immediately she steps away to take the call, explaining it's the director of the camp where Percy spends his school breaks.

While he's waiting for her to return, he looks down at her notebook, spread across the table. Sally writes in small, neat letters, and he scans the words on the page; the first thing he makes out is Percy's name and he feels a smile tug at his face. Her son and his _special needs_ don't bother him that much, especially because he believes Sally when she swears Percy's a good kid, is charmed by the way her entire face lights up at the mention of him.

But then a few more words catch his eye, and Paul realizes he's reading about concepts he hasn't heard of since he took a course in Classical Literature in college. Why, he can't help wondering, is Sally Jackson inserting her son into the Trojan War?

It must be an ego boost, he finally decides, a way to soothe her concern for Percy's future. When he hears Sally ending her conversation he frowns and quickly flips the page, pretending he hasn't seen a thing.

* * *

Originally posted 02/02/2011


	17. Out of Sight, Out of Mind

**Title:** Out of Sight, Out of Mind  
**Rating:** K  
**Character/Pairing:** Nico  
**Summary:** It took him years to realize that normal people didn't see the quiet light emanating from inside.  
**A/N:** Written for the LJ comm 31_days, prompt "I am seeing ghosts in everything I do." Nico gen fic. Spoilers for end of TLO.

* * *

His own ghosts don't bother him as much as the ghosts of others. It took him years to realize that normal people didn't see the quiet light emanating from inside, a reflection of their attachment to this life – and how others strengthened or weakened that attachment.

It's not so bad with couples or families – catch Percy Jackson visiting with Sally, or interrupt a make-out session with Annabeth, and his life aura is almost blinding. Even Clarisse, that crabby daughter of Ares who pulses at the edges of his vision when she's fighting in the training arena flares up a bit whenever Chris Rodriguez is watching. It's sort of fascinating to watch campers make attachments, form bonds – he can call it months in advance before a couple starts dating, just by the way they brighten when they pass one another during Capture the Flag or at archery lessons.

It's harder to see those who have lost somebody. A son of Dionysus is missing his brother. It's so obvious - his life aura is strong, and there's nothing wrong with him, no reason he may be near death, but there's a hole in his heart and it dims his entire life aura in a way that Nico can peg immediately. He sees it everywhere, in the faces of campers, missing their compatriots, parents, worried for their children, and lovers, searching for their other half. Their loved ones have passed on and stolen with them pieces of the living; every day Nico watches as the living try to fill those empty places, like turning a puzzle piece until it fits.

Nico studies the life aura of others; those who know who he is, whom he belongs to, what ability he bears sometimes look at him with hope, but Nico knows he disappoints them. He can't replace the missing pieces that his own ghosts have taken from him, let alone repair the ache of others.

* * *

Originally posted 02/04/2011


	18. To the Promised Land

**Title:** To the Promised Land  
**Rating:** K+  
**Character/Pairing:** Annabeth (Percy/Annabeth)  
**Summary:** It hurts to watch them tear down Olympus  
**A/N:** Written for the LJ comm 31_days, prompt "Constructive destruction gives the best kind of hard-on." Spoilers for TLO. It's past midnight here.

* * *

Working as the Official Architect of Olympus is kind of her greatest dream come true, one of those distant fantasies that always seemed too silly, too impossible for her to give real weight to. Except now it's happened, and Annabeth is spending as much time as she can spare on the project. She's starting to think Percy's getting sick of her laptop and sketch pads, because she's seen the way he frowns when he spots them in her backpack or spread across her bed, noticed how his eyes glaze over if she goes on about her plans for too long.

He doesn't complain though, because he knows how important this is to her, and she loves him for it. It keeps her busy, with gods sending her random requests throughout the day – Apollo spells out wishes in clouds for her, Demeter makes flowers talk, while Hesphaestus favors text messages – and she wants everything to look perfect once it's done.

There's only one issue with the whole process, something she never foresaw; at first she's so wrapped up in the work that she pushes it aside, but as clearing the rubble and planning the new buildings continues Annabeth can't ignore it anymore.

It hurts to watch them tear down Olympus.

Every step is a flash back to that last stand at the end - _here is where Percy pulled me back onto stable ground, here is where Hera's statue pinned Thalia_ - but it's particularly painful in the throne room. She can feel it in every cell of her body, that same weariness and pain she'd felt that night, the desperation to save Luke, the terror that Kronos might win. Sometimes her entire right arm aches with the memory:

_This is where Luke died. This is where_ Luke _died._

The only saving grace is the walk back to the elevator, when she remembers the elation of victory and the steady weight of Percy walking beside her.

Luckily, they're far enough in their relationship that she doesn't need to ask permission to kiss him anymore; when she leaves Mt. Olympus she goes straight to him, wraps her arms around his neck, and kisses him until he's breathless. When she kisses him in that frantic way he looks at her with the same shine in his eyes that she noticed as she swore to Luke Castellan that he was her brother.

Sometimes he breaks away to cup her face, stroke the pads of his thumbs over her cheekbones, and ask in a quiet, husky voice, "How was Olympus?"

She never answers his question. Instead she smiles and reaches for him again. "I'm glad you're here."

They kiss again, faces flushed and limbs tangled. He never presses the issue.

That's how she knows he feels the same.

* * *

Originally posted 02/06/2011


	19. In The Valley

**Title:** In the Valley  
**Rating:** K+  
**Character/Pairing:** Thalia, Annabeth  
**Summary:** Thalia can't bring herself to ask the questions.  
**A/N:** Written for the LJ comm 31_days, prompt "Something of that fire burns still." Spoilers for TLO.

* * *

After the war, things get _weird_ with Annabeth. It's not as bad when they're out in the Real World, sitting in a booth, laughing and gossiping and eating cheeseburgers until they both want to puke, but any time they cross paths up at Mt. Olympus, that's when things get strange.

At first Thalia just thinks that they're intimidated, being surrounded by the gods – so much of their lives are spent trying to contact them for blessings or avoiding their wrath that it's strange to have so much direct contact with them. Thalia is really only comfortable around Artemis, while Annabeth can't even enjoy being Athena's favorite child due to the pressure she puts on herself to succeed.

While she's still sure that the presence of the gods makes it worse, Thalia knows the truth. The truth is she and Annabeth can barely look at each other while visiting Mt. Olympus because they're both avoiding the obvious questions. Thalia would never admit, but some part of her still aches that she missed the ending, that she lay trapped under the statue of a useless goddess while her best friends fought – and died.

Right after the battle Annabeth had reassured her that it was _Luke_ who'd died, not the strange bitter shell that Luke had turned into. Thalia had taken the information gratefully, but had been too relieved, too overwhelmed with the ending of the war to ask the questions weighing her down, until much later when they kept her wide awake in her bedroll. Now when she's with Annabeth, the questions aren't invited and Thalia is scared of the answers anyway.

And yet… _Was he scared? Was he relieved? Did he know it was you? Did he mention me?_

The urge is always there, but instead Thalia smiles and punches her and suggests they go get milkshakes instead.

* * *

Originally posted 06/21/2011


	20. Make Your Mark

**Title:** Make Your Mark  
**Rating:** K+  
**Character/Pairing:** Rachel/Nico  
**Summary:** In which Rachel breaks camp tradition.  
**A/N:** Written for the LJ comm 31_days, prompt "Only purity can't be seen." Everyone is aged up. Why not?

* * *

Camp tradition generally dictates that tables in the dining pavilion are separated by cabin, and that campers eat with their siblings at their assigned tables with no exceptions. Being the Oracle means that Rachel usually sits at the head table with Chiron, though she has taken liberties with this technicality and sat with Percy before, or even squeezed into the Athena table to discuss Capture the Flag strategies. She doesn't do it often though, because people tend to stare when she does and that can ruin any element of surprise later on during the game.

People are staring at her today, however, and it has nothing to do with where she's sitting.

She's pretty good at this Oracle gig; she's been at it for a couple of years now and it's not too hard. She enjoys her summers, and it's an excuse not to take any summer classes even though her father would _love_for her to get her degree early so she can get on to grad school already. Her one complaint would be the whole Virgin thing – it's not that difficult, in theory, but then she spends most of her days watching sweaty boys in armor battle, and there is the tiniest amount of wistfulness, knowing that they're all off limits.

Mostly, anyway.

She glances up and makes eye contact with Percy, who gives her a wide smirk. Annabeth refuses to meet her gaze, but Malcolm, sitting next to Annabeth, raises an eyebrow in question. She knows there'll be a betting pool by the end of the day, and though she can count the number of times she's felt self-conscious in her entire life on a single hand, she still nervously adjusts the collar of her shirt. The mark on her neck feels like a brand, too hot against the rest of her skin, a beacon attracting everyone's attention.

There will be questions later, she knows. First and foremost: _who?_

For now, however, she reaches for her glass and looks down at her plate. Sneaking a look over to the lonely table where Nico's eating his dinner, his back turned to her, she wonders how long she can distract them from the marks he's hiding under his collar.

* * *

Originally posted 06/26/2011


	21. Low Tide

**Title:** Low Tide  
**Rating:** K+  
**Character/Pairing:** Percy/Annabeth  
**Summary:** Percy's tired and Rachel's curious.  
**A/N:** Written for the LJ comm 31_days, prompt "Dazed or half-dead on a Monday morning." Camp hijinks, no spoilers.

* * *

"What's the matter with you today?" Rachel asks, sitting next to him in the training arena. He has his feet propped up against the row in front of him, elbows leaning heavily against his knees, eyes watching the action in front of him through the calloused pads of his fingers.

Percy shrugs in response. He's pretty absorbed watching Annabeth systematically dismantle the Stoll brother's defenses, fighting two-on-one, and his brain is too tired to both focus on the fight and answer simple questions.

Rachel eyes him suspiciously. "It's too early for you to be this tired. You haven't even sparred yet."

"Full moon last night." Percy finally answers, smiling as Annabeth disarms Travis fully and turns her attention to Connor.

"Oh, that's right." Rachel twirls a piece of hair through her fingers and leans back away from him, apparently satisfied with this explanation. "The tides mess you up. I forgot about that."

"Right," Percy grunts, watching as Annabeth whips off her helmet, wipes off her brow, and ignores entirely the bags under her eyes.

* * *

Originally posted 07/10/2011


	22. The Best Policy

**Title:** The Best Policy  
**Rating:** K+  
**Character/Pairing:** Percy/Annabeth  
**Summary:** He doesn't tell her because he promised.  
**A/N:** Written for the LJ comm 31_days, prompt "Won't you let this body your burdens share?" **SPOILERS** for the unreleased _Son of Neptune_, however, if you've seen the preview material already released by RSquared then you already know said spoiler. Otherwise, consider yourself warned. Takes place between the end of _The Last Olympian_ and _The Lost Hero_.

* * *

It's at fall break when Annabeth first says something to him, looking up at him from her history notes after a particularly unkind comment about her study habits. He'd meant it as a half-hearted complaint about her having the nerve to pay attention to her homework when he's there and ready to make out, especially when they don't see each other all the time since the school year started, but it had come out sharper than he'd intended, more annoyed than playful.

Percy immediately winces, waiting for the inevitable retort and argument, but instead of fighting Annabeth raises an eyebrow and looks up at him curiously. "Are you sleeping okay Percy?"

He sits down heavily beside her on the bed she's turned into a desk. "Why do you ask?"

Annabeth bites her lip. "You've been kind of crabby lately," she admits, and then she reaches out and puts a hand on his cheek, her skin cool against his, thumb stroking his cheekbone. "And you've got circles under your eyes. We've been on enough quests together, haven't we? I can tell you're tired."

Percy almost tells her then. Tells her about the dreams where he's soaking wet and trembling, his skin scrubbed raw and scalded, scrabbling on a shore because his legs can barely support his weight. It's similar to his dip in Styx, but instead of Annabeth pulling him out of the water he's alone and looking for any sign of her.

He almost tells her about the dreams then. It's on the tip of his tongue – and then Annabeth's hand shifts against his skin and he remembers why he hasn't yet. He hasn't because even though it's a demigod dream and his demigod dreams have bad habits of becoming real life situations, he knows Annabeth will focus on the part where he's missing, and not the part where he's looking for _her_. He hasn't because it'll scare her, and he's promised her something permanent.

He'll face it when it comes. He reaches up and takes Annabeth's hand in both of his and kisses her fingertips gently. "I think it's school," he says quietly. "I hate geometry."

Annabeth gives him a wry smile. "I wish you would have told me sooner," she scolds tenderly. "I can help you with that."

* * *

Originally posted 09/24/2011


End file.
